Warmth and Darkness.

That was all he knew. No concept of the flow of time. No awareness of his own existence. Nothing...nothing but the warmth he floated in, and the darkness that surrounded him. It was all he had ever known.

It was all he had ever needed.

Suspended in his timeless world, he slept deeply. His eyes had never once opened, and his lungs had never once taken a breath of air, yet his heartbeat all the same; said beating was the only sound he ever knew, the blood flowing to and from his body. He hardly ever moved, content to float in his warm little world, though sometimes he did: a small flex of his clawed toes, a flick of his spine-covered tail, or a twitch of the fingers of his wings. Nothing more than the sleeping jerks of a dreaming creature.

Did he dream? Yes, though to say the dreams were truly his would be a lie. Rather than brought forth by the mind and experiences of life, his dreams came to him from deep within the blood flowing through his veins. Dreams of thousands upon thousands of years' worth of other lives before his own. Dreams of endless light and color, beautiful beyond description. Of a great orange fury that devoured everything in its path, spilling out from within. Of wide expanses of golden things and glimmering shines of a hundred colors. Of wings, tails, and orange fury clashing above, roars of fury shaking the space around them as they did so.

All things he did not recognize. Did not know. And yet, at the same time, all felt so familiar to him.

Not that he cared. Or even had the ability to care. Apart from his dreams, this existence was all he knew. And as far as he could be concerned, all he wanted and needed.

But things began to change. His little world was growing smaller and smaller around him, and the warmth was beginning to fade. His body began to fill up the world around him, the edges of existence beginning to brush against his body. He ignored it at first, simply curling up even tighter on himself and continuing to sleep. But his world continued to shrink, and he could only curl up so much.

Then, without warning, the world could shrink no more, and his body filled it up entirely.

His scaly skin pressed against the hard edges of his existence, his limbs tucked up into themselves as far as they could, his tail wrapping up past his head and against his back, while said head was forced down near his stomach. The warmth was all but gone now, little more than a tiny flicker right below his belly, leaving the rest of his world dark without it.

Then he shifted again in his sleep, and this time...everything exploded.

The sensation of his skin brushing against the edges of the world fired off the thousands of nerves at the hard yet smooth touch, sending a fury of electric signals coursing through his body and into his head, where they erupted into a brilliant, overwhelming rush of sensation. His chest tightened and burned as something within it struggled to...gain something. A gnawing bite hit inside his belly as the very last bits of the warmth were sucked away, leaving a deep, gnawing in its place. The blurry dreams faded from his mind as it was lit up with the rush of a thousand bolts of lightning, the sensations of touch and pain kicking it into overdrive.

His eyes opened for the first time.

He was awake.

He was aware.

And he was dying.

The pain of his chest spiked, and it all came rushing in at once: Kick. Claw. Push. Escape. Get Out! Still recoiling from the shock from experiencing consciousness for the first time, his body moved on its own; his legs kicked against the edge of the world. His wings tried to unfurl, pushing against the hard, smooth walls around him. He jerked his head forward at the curved surface in front of him, striking at it in desperate instinct. His movements were weak at first, but quickly grew stronger as his mind adjusted to all the sensations, and his actions became deliberate rather than instinctive.

He had to get out. He had to escape his once warm world. He couldn't sleep anymore; there was no warmth left. Somehow, he knew that if he fell asleep again, he wouldn't be here anymore.

Another shove of his head and the edge of the world caved outwards; the sensation of sound was learned as a sticky squishing noise burst around him, and the sensation of sight was painfully introduced the form of bright light piercing through the cracks, stabbing into his newly opened eyes. Said eyes snapped shut in pain and his throat clenched as he tried to do...something, but nothing happened; he tried to push something out. To tell of his distress. But there was nothing to push; his lungs were burning by this point, desperate for something that only existed outside the world. He slammed against the edge, again and again, each blow forcing the cracks to spread out further with each blow, throwing his full weight into it. Time finally had meaning to him, and he was quickly running out of what little he had.

Finally, with a loud, wet crack, the world split wide open, and he tumbled outwards in a slimy mess onto a cold, hard floor.

Something invisible smacked into his wriggling, kicking form with a biting cold. Instinct took over again, and he sucked in a deep breath; the invisible thing, cold and stale, rushed down his throat and filled his lungs, purging his chest of its tightness and sending fresh oxygen throughout his body. His brain flared to life as the rich chemicals flowed into it, flooding him with another rush of overwhelming sensations. In pain from the tumble, covered in the cold, sticky remains of his former world, and consumed with a longing emptiness throughout his torso, he was finally able to do what he had been trying ever since he had woken up:

He opened his jaws and screamed.

And thus, from within a solitary cave formed in the foot of a mountain, the world of Tamrizeroth was subjected to a sound that it had not heard for eons: the cry of a newly-hatched Purple Dragon, wailing like a banshee into the night sky.

Disclaimer: This is a non-profit fan work of my creation; all credit to the original interpretation of the franchises, characters, settings, etc. go to their respective owners.

Spyro the Dragon (c) by Microsoft Xbox Studios
Monster Hunter (c) by Capcom
The Secret of NIMH (c) by Don Bluth Studios
An American Tail (c) by Don Bluth Studios
Once Upon a Forest (c) by 20th Century Studios
Watership Down (c) by Richard Adams
Silverwing (c) Kenneth Oppel
The Saga of Spyro/The Dragon of Nimh and all original characters/custom versions of canon characters (c) by me

This fanfic was partially inspired by NIMH: Planet of the Rats, written by Sharks Potter. Credit to elements and scenes that share similarities to his story is given to this really good read; one I highly recommend to anyone who loves The Secret of NIHM/An American Tail (though a warning for violent and disturbing content is advised).